The creation of everything started with a tired god, in His chair, overlooking the nothingness

Anything can be made – with a gesture that could yank a mountain up, another gesture that could carve a river and fill it with water

And the god saw it was good, and napped at around 4

Later, after the nap, he resumed: the car port, the workout area, the sort of cloistered walkway

At the end of that last day, the god stood tall, pretending it was at a parapet and was smoking, and each puff brought forth something new. Cars! Money! Appliances! Calls from friends soon visiting! A speaking engagement! Something mysterious and perhaps erotic! Dinner!

Overhead the lights dim as he sits to eat

Lately, he dreams constantly, and can no longer distinguish between what’s real and what’s invented